


Us

by ceeba



Category: Hamilton - Miranda
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Five Scenes, Idiots in Love, M/M, Misunderstandings, Past Alexander/Eliza, Swearing, mild sexual content but only really mentioned
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-03-21
Updated: 2017-03-21
Packaged: 2018-10-09 00:30:53
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 5
Words: 9,019
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10399641
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ceeba/pseuds/ceeba
Summary: Alex and John figure out how to go from friendship to relationship in five stages.





	1. Friends

**Author's Note:**

> Written for the prompt "write the story of a relationship in five scenes"  
> Friends  
> Getting Together  
> Drunk  
> A Fight  
> Fluff

Alex can’t stop watching him. John – his best friend, his family.

They’re at a Black Lives Matter march and John has never looked more alive. His eyes are wide and bright, his cheeks slightly flushed from how into it all he’s getting. He’s holding a sign high above his head, standing tall and proud. He’s chanting along, loud and enthusiastic, with the rest of the crowd. His hair is pulled back into a tight bun at the back of his head but a few stray curls are loose across his eyes, wild and free. His freckles are stretched across his face with the strength of his grin.

He has never looked so beautiful, and Alex can’t take his eyes off him.

John turns to him, beams as bright as the fucking sun, and Alex feels his knees go weak.

Objectively, Alex has always known that John is an attractive guy. They’ve been friends for three years now, shared an apartment for nearly two of those years. They had first met over a barfight, strangers who had each other’s backs when some idiot was mouthing off about not needing to fight inequalities anymore because the world was fine the way it was. John had overheard, joined in, used to only weapon he knew how to at the time; his fists. Alex had used his words, and then he had patched up John’s bleeding knuckles and they had been inseparable ever since. They had fallen into such a fast and strong friendship that Alex had forgotten the way he felt when he first saw John that night in the bar.

He had been beautiful that night, eyes alight with passion. He had laughed with Alex, enjoyed his rants, had his back even though he didn’t know him. His constellation of freckles, his too-big smile, his hair falling loose around his shoulders. He was everything that Alex hadn’t known he wanted in his world, so full of life. He was the most beautiful thing Alex had ever seen.

It had faded, in a way. Or it was more that Alex had been able to distract himself with words and one night stands. He valued their friendship far too much to let himself get caught up in romantic notions of a life with John Laurens.

And yet here he is, three years down the line, slapped right in the face with everything he had spent so long pushing down.

John tips his head back and laughs, joy pouring out of him. He transfers his sign into one had and throws his free arm over Alex’s shoulders, pulling him into his side and keeping him there. Alex goes easily, letting John hold him close against him. He breathes in deep when John’s arm slips down to circle around his waist.

He shakes his head at himself, plasters on a semi-believable smile, and joins in the chant with the rest of his friends.

 

When they get home, John is still glowing. He’s full of energy, bouncing around and talking a mile a minute as he shoves a frozen pizza in the oven. Alex just watches him, nods along, lets him talk and talk and just gets lost in his voice.

Alex loves John’s voice. John hates it, thinks it’ll hold him back, thinks it makes him sound stupid or dangerous, that it’s hard to understand. Alex thinks it’s brilliant, that it gives him character, tells his story. He has never, not once, found John hard to understand.

“You’re quiet,” John says, and Alex blinks up at him.

“I’m _listening_ ,” Alex argues.

John snorts at him. “Please. You always have something to say, Ham.”

Alex shrugs, decides against keeping up the joke. “Not right now.”

John pauses, frowns at him. “You good?”

Alex contemplates that question for a moment. He wonders if John has ever thought about them in any other capacity than friends. He can’t tell – John is affectionate with him, but then John is affectionate with Laf and Mulligan, too, and Alex knows for a fact that John isn’t harbouring any secret crushes on them.

So he shakes the thought away and smiles at John. John, _his best friend_. “I’m good. Just – a lot to think about today,” he says honestly, knowing that John will assume he means the march.

It works, and suddenly John is off again and Alex goes right back to watching him and internally freaking the fuck out.


	2. Getting Together

John is mad at him. Which, ok, has happened before and will absolutely happen again, it’s just that usually Alex knows why. This time, Alex has no fucking clue why John might be avoiding him.

They haven’t had a fight. Alex hasn’t accidentally left his dirty socks on the couch again. He took his turn with the dishes, he even went to the grocery store this week and picked up all of John’s favourites. So he can’t for the life of him figure out why John has only come home one night this week, or why he’s answering Alex’s concerned texts with one-word replies that are just enough to reassure Alex that John is alive but absolutely not enough to bring him any sort of comfort.

The only conclusion that Alex can come to is that John must be seeing someone. Which, ok, that kind of hurts.

It’s not like he has any claim on John, and until a few weeks ago he had shoved his feelings so far down that he had forgotten himself that he even had them in the first place. Alex has literally no right to feel betrayed or jealous – John is young and single and allowed to do anything, or anyone, he damn well pleases.

Except that then Alex finds out that John has been staying at Lafayette’s.

“I’m sorry, what?” Alex asks when Mulligan just casually drops that bomb into their conversation.

“He’s at Laf’s,” Hercules repeats, like he’s just mentioned the weather and not completely turned Alex’s world on its head. “What did you do?”

Alex splutters, offended. “What did _I_ do? Why did I do something?”

“He just seems – I don’t know. He looks flat.”

“ _Flat_ ,” Alex deadpans.

“Yeah, man, I don’t know!” Mulligan says defensively. “He’s just – sad. Not himself.”

Alex winces, feeling that like a knife in his chest. “Well,” he says, gathering himself. “Why is that my problem? I’m sure Lafayette can help him with whatever is wrong.”

Mulligan rolls his eyes, sighs heavily. “Well, if you’re gonna be a dick about it. Still on for dinner tomorrow?”

“Sure,” Alex says absently, waving Hercules away. He makes a face at Alex but heads off to a different corner of the library all the same.

Alex sits down and spends far longer staring dazedly into space than he cares to admit.

_John and Lafayette_.

He can’t get his head around it. They’ve talked about this before, he and John. About whether they would ever go there or not. They had answered the same way – that Lafayette was hot, sure, a fucking _God_ on his best days, but neither of them would actually want to do anything about it.

But now John does?

It doesn’t add up, but that might just be because Alex really doesn’t want it to.

 

He goes home. There’s no way in hell he’s going to be able to concentrate now, not with the idea of John and Laf floating around in his head. The thought of John seeing some faceless, nameless dude was bad enough, an image that made Alex shake and hurt all over. This, though. This is a thousand times worse. John isn’t an idiot, and Alex knows he wouldn’t just jump into Laf’s bed without some serious thought and discussion first. Which means that this is more than just sex, more than a fling. This, more than likely, means that Alex will have to watch the man he wants more than anything fall in love with another guy.

 

Alex doesn’t know how long he stays there, pouting into an empty room. Eventually, though, the front door opens and he hears John’s footsteps head towards the sitting room.

“Alexander?” he asks. “Are you – are you ok?”

Miserably, that’s the most John has said to him in weeks, and Alex makes an odd sound somewhere between a laugh and a sob and pulls himself into a sitting position.

“What are you doing here?”

John takes a step back. “Um. I live here?”

“Do you?” Alex says, unable to keep the bitterness from his voice. “Could’ve fooled me.”

“Excuse me?” says slowly.

“If you live here, then why aren’t you _living here_?” Alex says. He can’t seem to soften his tone, doesn’t seem to be able to sound anything other than mean and he hates that, hates putting that hurt and attacked expression on John’s face. But _he’s_ hurting, too, and all he can see when he looks at John is Lafayette Lafayette Lafayette and the image is making him lash out.

“God, like you even need to ask,” John snaps, going towards his room.

He doesn’t come out for a long time and Alex doesn’t move, just glares into space. When John finally does reappear, he has a packed bag with him and Alex tries very hard to hold himself together.

“I thought we were better than this, Alexander.”

“I’m sorry, _what_?”

“I thought we were friends. I thought you – ” John cuts himself off, voice shaky. “I thought at least you cared about my feelings. Whatever. It doesn’t matter. I’m going to Laf’s, if you decide you care.”

“How dare you say I don’t care?” Alex hisses, standing up. “Be as mad as you want at me, Laurens, but don’t you dare tell me I don’t care about how you _feel_.”

“Fuck. Whatever, Alex,” John groans, heading towards the door.

“One thing, John,” Alex says, unable to stop himself. He takes a deep, steadying breath, feels the anger rush out of him in one fell swoop when he sees how John is looking at him.

“What?” John sighs.

“Are you happy? With him?”

“With who?” John frowns.

Alex swallows. “Laf.”

John makes a strange squawking noise, gives Alex A Look. “What does that – what does that even mean?”

Alex shakes his head. “Just go if you’re going.”

John drops his bag, rubs at his mouth. He has that same look he gets when he wants to start a fight and Alex flinches. “No – what does that mean, Alexander? Happy with Laf how?”

“Why are you doing this?” Alex says, voice strangled. “Is this fun for you, making me think about this shit?”

“I don’t even – I’m not even _close_ to having a clue what you’re talking about, Ham,” John says helplessly.

Alex takes a deep breath. “Lafayette,” he chokes out. “You’re – you and Lafayette are – ” he can’t even say it, trails off and lets out a frustrated growl.

“Are you implying,” John says, voice steady and too-calm, “that Lafayette and I are sleeping together?”

Alex raises an unimpressed eyebrow at him. “Well. Aren’t you?”

“Jesus!” John bursts and then he throws his head back and laughs. “ _No_. fucking hell, Alexander, no. where did you even get that idea?”

“I – what? But – ” Alex blinks rapidly at him. “Herc said you were saying there.”

“Yes. And?”

“Well, I mean – you disappeared! You just left one day so I figured you’d met somebody, you know? And then Mulligan mentioned that you had been sleeping at Laf’s place so I just put two and two together and – ”

“And got 700,” John says, unamused. “Fucking hell, Alex, of all the things you could think I was doing – ”

“So you’re _not_ sleeping with Lafayette,” Alex says flatly, suddenly feeling beyond stupid.

“No! Fuck. Why would I even do that?”

“Oh,” Alex says, falling back onto the sofa hazily.

“Alex,” John sighs. “Alex – do you even know why I’ve not been coming home?”

“No!” Alex says loudly, frustrated. “Hence the bad math.”

John huffs and comes over to the living area, sitting gingerly on the loveseat. He looks a little terrified and a lot miserable, and Alex just wants to reach out and make it all go away.

He doesn’t.

“Alexander. You really hurt me that night.”

Alex frowns at him. “What night?”

“Alex,” John sighs.

“No, man, I’m serious. Please just tell me what I did because I’m struggling to figure it out and I might actually go crazy if you keep being so vague.”

John is frowning at him, hard and assessing, until suddenly his mouth drops open. His eyes widen and he tips forward, laughing as he cradles his head in his hands. “Whisky,” is all he says.

Alex sits up straight. “Uh. You want whisky?”

“ _No_. We were drinking fucking whisky. I’m such an idiot, holy shit. You don’t remember anything when you drink whisky.”

“Hey,” Alex pouts, but then shrugs. “Ok, no. That’s fair.”

“Alex we – we had a conversation, the night we went to that march. We were so buzzed. Or, I was. You were acting kind of weird. So we got drunk, opened that overpriced whisky my dad sent me for my birthday.”

“Oh, god,” Alex says, stomach bottoming out. “What did I do? John, what did I _do_?” John looks like he’s about to cry, _fuck_ , and Alex can’t have that. “Shit, John, don’t do that. Tell me what happened, please. Tell me what I did so I can make it better. I didn’t – I didn’t mean to hurt you or – whatever I did, or said, I – I don’t _remember_ ,” Alex says desperately.

John sucks in a shaky breath. “You, uh. You said you – God, this is hard. You said that you wanted me, ok? You said you thought I was beautiful.”

Alex stares at him wide-eyed, all the colour draining from his face when he realises what that means. “Oh,” he says, choking back a sob. “I get it. I – I said that to you and you left.”

“No, Alex – ”

“You were so mad, so disgusted, that you couldn’t even stay in the same apartment as me. What I you think I was going to do, John, molest you in your sleep?”

“That’s not funny, Alex.”

“Do I look like I’m fucking _laughing_?”

“Would you just shut the fuck up and listen to me for one second?” John snaps. “You said – you said all these things to me that night and I – it was all I wanted. All I’ve wanted to hear for _years_.”

“What?” Alex breathes.

“Fuck, Alexander. You said you wanted to be with me. We _kissed_. It was – I mean, we were drunk and it was messy but it was _us_ and so it was perfect.”

“We didn’t – we did not _kiss_ ,” Alex says. _Hopes_. “I would remember. John, I wouldn’t _forget_ that!”

“Well, you did,” John tells him. “You forgot. And I thought ok, sure, maybe he regrets it and feels awkward and that’s why he hasn’t mentioned it again, you know? Maybe he just doesn’t want me. And that hurt, man, it really fucking hurt, but then we went out later that week, remember that? And I was going to talk to you, I was building up to asking you about it and the next thing I turn around and you’re on the dancefloor with your fucking tongue down some dude’s throat,” John chokes out. He closes his eyes as he says it, like he can’t even stand to see Alex’s face.

Alex loses his breath.

No. _No_. John wanted him, too? John wanted _them_? And then Alex –

“You brought him back here, Alex,” John says on a weak sob, opening his eyes. The look on his face breaks Alex’s heart. “You told me you wanted to be with me and God, Alexander, I felt like I could fucking _fly_. And then you brought some guy back here less than a week later, to our _home_ , and you fucked him with just a thin wall between us.”

Alex makes a choked noise, feeling like he’s about to throw up. He buries his face in his knees, wraps his arms around his torso. “Oh, God. Oh God. John, no. _Fuck_. I’m sorry. I’m so sorry. I didn’t _know_. I didn’t remember. _Fuck_. I would never – I never would have – ” he breaks off, looking up at John. John looks back at him, eyes sad and defeated, and it spurs Alex into action. He tips forward off the couch, lands on his knees in from of John. “I went – I went out that night looking for a distraction.”

“Alex – ” John protests, looking away.

“No, please, hear me out. Please. Look – at the march, I was watching you and I just – I had never seen anyone or anything so _captivating_. You were – God, John, you were _everything_. And I realised that it wasn’t just then. You’re _always_ everything. The night we met – god, you were everything I wanted, and I wanted you so much, I really did. But then we were friends and nothing was more important than that, I swear, and I couldn’t – I couldn’t risk that on what I thought was the impossibility of you wanting me back. And then that day – Jesus, John, you were so full of life. You were breath-taking. And it all came crashing back down on me, how I felt, the ways I wanted you. I wasn’t going to say anything, I swear, I was just going to hold it in and be your friend, be there with you in any way I could have you. That was enough, you know? That will always be enough for me, just being in your life. But then the whisky and – shit, John, I’m so sorry. I’m sorry. The last thing I wanted to do was hurt you or make you feel like I didn’t _care_ about you, shit.”

“Alexander,” John says, his eyes wet. “That – that is basically word for word what you said to me that night.”

Alex chokes out a half laugh. “And doesn’t that just tell you that I mean it?” he asks hopefully.

“You really don’t remember? Not even the kiss?”

“No, _god_ ,” Alex breathes. “And trust me, I have never regretted forgetting something more in my _life_. God, I don’t even know how to tell you how sorry I am.”

“No,” John shakes his head. “No, it’s ok. You didn’t know.”

“No, I _swear_. I would never have – ”

“I know. At least, I think I’m starting to believe that.”

Alex breathes out, reaches a tentative hand out to rest on the arm of John’s chair. “You should have spoken to me,” he says gently, “I wish I had spoken to you.”

“It’s ok,” John says.

“It’s not, John. What I did is not ok.”

“I know, and that part will take me a while to get to grips with. But you didn’t know how I felt, you didn’t know you’d told me how you felt.”

“I’m sorry,” Alex says again, uselessly.

“It’s good,” John says. He reaches out, cups Alex’s jaw, and he _smiles_. “We’re here now.”

Alex reaches up, cover’s John’s hand with his own to keep him there. “Yeah. Shit. You – you really like me?”

John laughs, still teary-eyed. “I was so sure you already knew, man. I haven’t exactly been subtle.

“Tell me,” Alex grins.

“Oh, no you don’t,” John says, sounding a lot more like himself all of a sudden. “I gave you a fucking speech, man. I told you all about how I feel about you. Not my fault you forgot.”

Alex’s mouth drops open and he bats John’s hand away from him. “You asshole! I repeated _my_ big declaration.”

“Yeah, well, you’re the one who fucked up,” John shrugs.

“Oh my god,” Alex groans, rolling his eyes. “At least give me the cliff notes?”

John smiles, wide and fond. “Ok, even if you don’t deserve it,” Alex sticks his tongue out at that and John shoves at his shoulder. John sighs, over dramatic. “Against my better judgement, and despite your many, _many_ flaws – ”

“Asshole,” Alex mutters.

“I’m still so, so into you. Like, ridiculously so. I’m serious, Alex. We’ve lived together for so long now and still anytime you come into a room or even like, touch me in any way I feel like I’m going to explode. I’m crazy about you, Ham. And every day is a fucking struggle not to just jump on you and – well. I guess you’ll have to wait and see.”

Alex stares at him, mouth suddenly going dry. “Huh. If that was the abbreviated version I would _love_ to hear the whole thing sometime.”

“Alex?” John sighs, raising an eyebrow at him.

“Hm?”

“Will you just fucking kiss me already before I die?”

“Oh,” Alex blinks. “Yeah. Yeah, I can definitely do that.”


	3. Drunk

Alexander is drunk. Like, stumbling around and slurring his speech drunk. It’s new year and Laf is throwing a party and _Alex is fucking drunk_.

Laf comes over with a bottle of whisky, tips it at Alex.

“There he is!” John calls, swaying against Alex’s side. “My secret lover.”

“You shut your damn mouth,” Alex glares at him and then, when Laf tips his head back and cackles, says, “You too, Frenchy.”

“You are ridiculous,” Lafayette says, stepping closer to plant a surprisingly tender kiss to the end of Alex’s nose to show he doesn’t mean it. “Drink the whisky.”

“Nuh huh,” Alex says. “Not a chance. I am off whisky forever. For the rest of my life!”

John giggles. Fucking _giggles_. “You’re god damn right you are.”

Lafayette sighs forlornly. “Do I even want to know?”

“Non, mon ami,” Alex says.

John turns him by his shoulder, pushes in close with a spark in his eye. “Forget _this_ , asshole,” he dares, and then his mouth is on Alex’s, hot and wet and insistent.

Alex groans, surprise turning into interest pretty damn quickly. He wraps his arms around John’s neck, pulls him even closer. John’s hands find his hips, squeeze, and then slip up under Alex’s shirt, wrap around his back. Alex moans into his mouth, slides his hand into John’s hair and tugs.

“Jesus Christ,” Lafayette mutters. “Do not have sex on my living room floor.”

John pulls back, eyes dark and mouth wet. “Too late.”

“You did not,” Laf squawks.

“Just the once!” John defends.

“Um,” Alex says, and then he cackles.

“Ok, ok. Maybe once or twice more after that.”

“Merde,” Lafayette hisses, rolling his eyes and throwing his hands up in the air. He walks away from them, muttering curses in French the whole way.

John turns back to Alex, smirking. “We should go somewhere,” he breathes, eyes flickering down to Alex’s open mouth again.

 

“Two minutes!” Lafayette calls, and the room breaks out into cheers.

Alex groans, barely able to look up from John’s mouth to his eyes. “We promised Laf we would make it to midnight.”

“Alex,” John says, his voice a petulant whine. He’s freaking _pouting_ , for Christ sake.

Alex lifts his hand, rubs a thumb over John’s bottom lip. “Later,” he breathes. “Promise.”

John opens his mouth and nips at Alex’s thumb before curling his tongue around it and bringing it into his mouth, eyes sparkling mischievously.

Alex glares at him and snatches his hand back. “Behave,” he warns.

“Or what?” John grins, waggling his eyebrows exaggeratedly. Alex tips his head back and laughs, grabbing at John’s arms for balance when the movement makes him stumble. John snorts, wrapping his arms around Alex’s waist to keep him steady. “You’re an idiot,” he says, his voice all soft and fond in a way that makes Alex’s insides tense up and his whole body tingle.

He clumsily reaches for John’s face again, kisses him quickly. “Love you,” he murmurs.

 

The next thing Alex knows, people are cheering and shouting for the new year. Alex had completely missed the countdown, finding himself thrown onto Laf’s extravagant couch instead with a lap full of John. He has his back against the sofa cushions, John’s knees either side of his hips. John has his hands buried deep in Alex’s hair, tipping his head back so that he can take full control of the kiss. Alex sits back, hands gripping at John’s hips, and let’s himself be taken.

 

“You two were disgusting last night and I would like to disown you both,” Lafayette announces. He’s lounging on one of his fancy dining room chairs, his feet thrown up on the table in front of him. He’s sipping orange juice from a champagne flute, his hair sticking up in every direction.

Alex is still boxed in on the couch, John snoring in front of him. He rolls his eyes dramatically. “We weren’t that bad.”

Lafayette raises an unamused eyebrow at him and Mulligan, across the dining table, chokes on his stupid croissant.

“Bro, you were basically screwing on the couch in the middle of the party,” he says through his mouthful.

“Ok, first of all,” Alex says, holding up one finger. “We do not _screw_ , we are _in love_ ,” he emphasises, glaring when both Lafayette and Mulligan burst out laughing. “Assholes,” he shoots at them.

“And second of all?” Laf asks, all wide-eyes and faux innocence.

“Second of all; fuck you, man,” John mutters from where his face is pressed into Alex’s shoulder.

Alex hasn’t even realised he was awake. He reaches down and pets sloppily at John’s face. “ _Thank_ you.”

“But don’t tell them we don’t screw, Alexander,” John croaks. “We screw sometimes. Just because I love you doesn’t mean I can’t make you forget your own name.”

Alex splutters for a moment and then just gapes at John while their friends laugh at them.

“You’re not helping, shithead,” Alex pouts, poking John in the ribs.

“Just admit it, we’re disgusting,” John shrugs.

Alex scrunches his face up. Ok, so they hadn’t been the _best_ company last night. They were clingy and gooey and they made out in front of everyone. A lot. But _still_. “We didn’t actually have _sex_.”

Laf raises an eyebrow at him, unimpressed. “Non. You waited until the audience was gone before you defiled my couch.” He says flatly.

John groans as he pushes himself up, but he still manages to send a blinding grin towards Laf.

Alex stares at him, and maybe he’s still a little drunk because he feels like he might actually melt. He wonders if he’ll ever get used to John’s smile, John’s voice, John’s freckles, _John_. He wonders if he’ll ever get used to how much he loves him.

Not now, anyway. He’s definitely not used to it yet. He sighs, long and loud, and John turns towards him, curious.

“I just really fucking love you,” Alex says, awed.

John’s nose scrunches up with the force of his smile and Alex lurches forward to kiss him. It’s disgusting, they both taste like shit and Alex’s mouth is dry but he doesn’t care. John flops back onto the couch and pulls Alex down with him, kissing him soundly, and Alex distantly hears their friends let out long-suffering groans. He’s dimly aware of something bouncing off his back – a cushion, he guesses thrown by Laf – but he ignores it, focusing on the feel of John beneath him.

It’s perfect. God, everything is fucking perfect.


	4. A Fight

Everything is not fucking perfect.

Alex is staring at their front door, the one John had stormed out of not moments before. Eventually, he falls back onto the couch and continues his staring from there.

He’s still sitting there, however long later, when Lafayette bursts uninvited through that same door. Lafayette takes one look at him and sighs heavily. “What did you do?”

“Why is it always my fucking fault?” Alex squawks indignantly. “I didn’t do anything!”

“Then why is our Laurens moping in my apartment right now?”

Alex scoffs, crossing his arms across his chest. _Of course he went to Lafayette._ “I don’t know, Gilbert, why don’t you ask him?”

Laf gives him a flat look. “Because he swanned in and announced that he did not want to talk about it before going to my fridge and starting to make his way through my beer.”

Alex rolls his eyes petulantly. “Well, I didn’t do anything.”

“Please,” Laf snorts.

“I didn’t! He was being a dick so I told him so,” Alex shrugs.

 

It’s been four months. Four months since they made the transition from Friends to More, and it’s been so damn good. They had already lived together for so long that there were no nasty surprises to learn about each other, no living habits that drove the other unexpectedly crazy. They already knew each other, inside and out, so there had been nothing so far that had caused them to argue. Sure, they drive each other crazy. John literally never does the dishes and Alex has a bad habit of leaving his dirty socks all over the place, and they’re both so full of drive and passion that inevitably they sometimes clash. Still. As relationships go, theirs is pretty smooth sailing.

Which was why it was such a surprise when they’d got back from a night out with their friends and John had kicked his shoes off so hard that they had marked the wall.

“Woah there,” Alex jokes, still thinking that it was just John being drunk and careless.

“The fuck, Hamilton?” John snaps, and Alex turned wide, surprised eyes on him.

“Huh?” he says dumbly.

“I get it, ok? You’re friends with your ex, we both are. And I’m fine with it, I am, but _fuck_ , Ham, do you have to be so fucking touchy with her all the time?”

Alex’s heckles automatically rise and he stands up straight. “ _Excuse_ me?”

“You made me look like a fucking idiot tonight.”

“Alright, Laurens, you’ve really lost me.”

John sighs, fire in his eyes. He looks like he wants to fight; his shoulders squared and his fists clenched. Alex knows, he _knows_ that John would never lay a hand on him. He trusts that, believes it with everything he has, but he also knows that John needs to get that rage out somehow, needs some kind of release when he gets like this.

“Alexander,” John says, voice carefully measured. “When we’re out like that and you spend the entire night wrapped around your ex-girlfriend, you can surely understand why it would piss me off.”

Alex stares at him blankly. “Why?” he asks, genuinely oblivious as to why John seems to be losing his shit. “You know I’m going home with you at the end of the night, what does it matter who I talk to when we’re out?”

John laughs, an ugly and bitter sound that sends a chill right through Alex. “Jesus Christ, Alex. You – you’ve _been_ with her, you _know_ her. She knows you. She’s touched you and kissed you and – and I saw you together back then, man, I know how much you loved her. How do you think it makes me feel when I see you all over her, giggling and kissing her stupid face?”

And Alex must be really fucking stupid, or at least really fucking drunk, because for some reason all his useless brain can think to say in that moment is: “Eliza doesn’t have a stupid face.”

John stares at him, eyes wide and mouth hanging open. Then he huffs a broken laugh and shakes his head. “I’m not talking to you like this. I’m going to bed.” And then he storms his way into his own bedroom, to his own bed that hasn’t been used in months. He always sleeps with Alex, in Alex’s bed, in Alex’s arms.

Alex isn’t so stupid as to follow him after he slams the door shut, though. Instead, he stares at the closed door sadly for a moment before he heads to his own room.

He doesn’t sleep. His bed is too cold and empty with John the Human Heater. He lies and stares at the ceiling and waits until it’s an acceptable hour to get up and make the days first round of coffee.

 

Ok, so he was an idiot last night, he can see that now. But maybe John had been laughing with Lafayette in a way that Alex hadn’t loved and so maybe he’d laid it on thick with Eliza. He hadn’t expected it to blow up quite so dramatically.

He’d been feeling odd ever since the whole John/Laf misunderstanding. It’s not that he thinks anything is going on, it’s just – well. Alex had imagined it then, and now all he sees when he looks at John and Laf together is everything that he’s not, everything he can’t give John. He already struggles at the best of times to see what John sees in him; it’s nearly impossible to do when he looks at Lafayette.

So, yeah, maybe he got jealous last night, he’s not proud of that. And maybe he knew it was juvenile and stupid to retaliate in the way he did, but he kind of got caught up in it anyway. And, yes, he definitely knows it was stupid to be petulant and bratty last night instead of just apologising and making up with John straight away.

Still. He’s stubborn and his pride is hurting and so when John comes out of his room that morning and helps himself to a cup of coffee, Alex doesn’t immediately beg for forgiveness like he probably should.

John sits at the kitchen counter opposite him, meets his eye. He looks like he’s barely slept, either.

“So are you going to have a grown up conversation with me now?” he asks.

Alex sniffs. “I don’t know. Are you going to kick your shoes at me again?”

John rolls his eyes. “I didn’t kick them _at_ you, Jesus Christ.”

“At least you look less like you’re about to punch me today.”

John pales at that. “I wasn’t going to – God, Alex, you know I wouldn’t _hit_ you.”

Alex does know this, but he doesn’t give John the satisfaction or admitting it. “Hm,” is all he says.

John puts his coffee down and sighs. “Really? You don’t have anything else you wanna say to me?”

Alex pretends to think about it. “Nope. Can’t think of anything.”

“Oh my god,” John mutters, pushing himself up. “You know what? Fuck you, Alexander. You’re a piece of shit,” he hisses, and then he’s shoving out of the apartment.

And yeah, ok, Alex agrees. He really is a piece of shit.

 

“Ok, so maybe I did fuck up a little bit,” Alex admits.

“With Eliza?” Laf asks, eyebrows raised.

“I didn’t _do_ anything!” he says quickly. “I would never – I just. I was flirting. It didn’t mean anything.”

“And John knows this?”

“Of course!” Alex says. Then he stops, thinks about it. He thinks about how he’s never told John how he feels about seeing him get cosy with Lafayette, and they’ve never _dated_. “Or, I mean. Maybe?”

“Oh, Alexandre,” Laf sighs, pitying.

Alex winces. “I should go talk to him, huh?”

“Yes, I would say so,” Laf nods, settling back onto Alex’s couch. He kicks his feet up and reaches for the remote.

“Um. What are you doing?” Alex asks, eyebrow raised.

“Well, you will be in my home so I will be in yours. And please, _please_ Alexandre, whatever you do – please do not have make-up sex on my new cashmere rug.”

 

Alex lets himself into Laf’s apartment and heads towards the sitting room.

Without looking up, John says, “Yo, dude, you’re out of beer, you should probably do something about that.” When he gets no response he looks up, frowning when he sees Alex. “Oh. It’s you.”

“Yeah, sorry about that,” Alex says, going towards Laf’s extravagant couch and sitting on the far end. “So, it turns out you were right. I am a piece of shit.”

John groans and pulls his knees up to his chest, wrapping his arms around them. “No you’re not. That was a shitty thing for me to say.”

“Well, you weren’t wrong,” Alex says. “Look. I was an idiot last night. I felt shitty and I reacted by making you feel shitty, too, and that’s really not ok. I didn’t do it intentionally, I just didn’t _think_. Which, you know, is maybe worse. But I need you to know, John, please believe me when I say that there is absolutely nothing between me and Liza anymore. We broke up for a good reason. And I care about her a lot, she’s still my friend, but nothing has or will ever happen between us again. I mean that.”

“Then why do that? Why spend the night like that with her?” John asks quietly. He looks so small and young, hunched into himself, and Alex suddenly feels like even more of an asshole. “Alex, I know it was intentional, man. You kept looking at me, making sure I was watching the two of you. I just – I don’t know what I _did_. I don’t know why you were trying to hurt me.

Alex sucks in a breath and pushes forward slightly. He reaches out but then thinks better of it. “ _Nothing_. Shit, John, you didn’t do anything. I just – I freaked myself out and I lashed out at you instead of just talking to you and that was not ok.”

John looks over at him, hooks his chin over his knees. “Are you gonna to tell me why or are you gonna be vague and weird some more?”

Alex laughs humourlessly, runs a hand through his messy hair. “Oh, man. It’s so stupid. You’re going to be so pissed.”

“Gotta be honest with you, Ham, I’m already pretty pissed.”

Alex huffs out a laugh. “Yeah, alright. But I’m warning you, it’s really dumb.”

“Try me,” John says, arching an eyebrow at him.

Alex takes a deep breath, scrunches up his face in anticipation of John’s anger. “I – it was you and Lafayette, ok?”

John stares at him blankly for a second. “Huh?” he says eventually.

Alex rolls his eyes. “Ever since I thought you were hooking up with Laf – you know, before – I’ve had this – this _thing_ about the two of you. Like, all I can see is how well you get on or how good you look together or how much more he can give you than I can. I mean, look at this place, man,” he opens his arms and gestures around Laf’s luxurious apartment. “I’ll never have shit like this, John. I’ll never have money like this, nice things, I’ll probably never own my own place. I don’t look like a fucking God like he does, I don’t – I just. I look at him and I see everything that I’m not. And you deserve more, man. You deserve the best. And I just – I watched the two of you last night and I kind of lost my mind and I just – I just started flirting?”

John stares at him for a moment, mouth hanging open. He blinks – once, twice. Finally, he says “Are you fucking kidding me?”

Alex winces. “I know.”

“I don’t even – I don’t even have anything to say about this. I mean. Of all the things I thought this could be, Laf did not cross my mind.”

“Yeah, well, I told you it was stupid. And I’m so sorry, I am. I shouldn’t have lashed out and tried to make you feel how I felt and - ”

“Wait wait wait,” John unfolds himself and leans forward, trying to catch Alex’s eye. “Is this something that has really been bothering you?”

Alex looks down, tries to think of something witty or distracting or just something generally less pathetic to say.

“Jesus, Alex,” John sighs before Alex’s brain can catch up with him. He crawls across the couch and lifts Alex’s chin. “Why didn’t you just _tell_ me?”

“Because I know how stupid it sounds. We have literally had this conversation about, you know, if we would ever go there. I just – felt inadequate, I guess? And then I got stuck in my own brain and I couldn’t stop and – fuck, John. I really fucked up.”

“No,” John says, huffing a laugh. He cups Alex’s face, smiles sadly at him. “Well, maybe a little, but so did I. I kept making jokes about the Laf thing and I didn’t – I didn’t realise it still bothered you. I really wish you had just told me.”

“I’m sorry.”

“Alexander,” John breathes. “You have to know how much I love you by now. Because I love you _so_ much, man. Like, it blows my mind every fucking day. You’re so – you’re more than enough for me. I don’t know what gave you the idea that I wasn’t satisfied, that I wanted money and extravagance. I just want _you_ , Alex. Having you is pretty much everything to me.”

Alex softens, feels himself melting into John’s touch. “Yeah?”

“God, Alex, _yes_. If this wasn’t enough for me I would tell you, I promise. I just – ”

“What?” Alex prompts when John trails off.

“There’s something that’s still really bothering me.”

“Yeah?” Alex asks, bracing himself.

John takes a shaky breath, looks genuinely scared when he meets Alex’s eye. “I didn’t really – you didn’t actually think I was going to hurt you last night, did you?”

Alex breathes out harshly and reaches for John. “No, no, no,” he says desperately, trying to get that awful look out of John’s eyes. “I promise, no. Not for a second. I was just being a brat this morning.”

“Honestly? Because fuck, man, I never – I would _never_ – “

“I know, I know,” Alex assures him, reaching out to cup his jaw. “I’m so sorry. For all of it, but especially for that.”

John shakes his head. “It’s ok. Just – you can’t _do_ that, ok? You guys were together. And I’m good with the friendship, you know I am. I adore Eliza. But I can’t – I can’t watch you with her like that. You’re not the only one who doesn’t feel like they’re enough.”

Alex chokes out a laugh. “Laurens, _fuck_. I wish I could explain it to you, the way I feel about you. I’m usually so good with words but there aren’t enough to tell you how important you are to me. I wish I could. You deserve to hear it. I was so dumb last night, but I promise you that you are so much more than enough for me. I love you _so much_ , I have for years. You’re the love of my fucking life, John Laurens.”

John scrunches up his face and Alex feels his cheeks heat up under his hands. He smiles, kissing John quickly.

“We good?”

“We good,” John sighs. “Yo. As far as first fights go, we didn’t do so bad, huh?”

“We kicked ass,” Alex grins.

“We’re very good at fights.”

“Hm. We should do it more often.”

“No,” John scoffs. “No, we shouldn’t.”

“Fair. Hey, as good as we are at fighting, I bet we’re even better at making up,” Alex says, wriggling his eyebrows suggestively.

John splutters a surprised laugh, shoves Alex away from him. “Oh my god, that was terrible.”

“Come on. Let’s defile Laf’s fancy-ass couch.”

“He will kill us,” John warns, but he’s already crawling into Alex’s lap.

“Hey, I only promised not to fuck on his new rug. The couch is fair game, man.”

John smirks, wraps his arms around Alex’s shoulders and pushes in close. “Excellent.”


	5. Fluff

Alex has been weird and fidgety all day. John has tried asking what’s up, tried making fun of him, tried fucking it out of him. Nothing had worked.

And now they’re in the cinema and Alex’s knee is bobbing up and down as he taps his fingers on the seat.

“Alexander, babe,” John hisses, closing his hand over Alex’s on the arm rest to stop him. “You’re shaking the whole row, man. Do you wanna leave?”

“No!” Alex says, too loud. John looks around and shoots an apologetic smile to the family behind them. “No. Let’s stay.”

“Okay,” John says slowly, putting his hand on Alex’s knee to stop him jigging his leg. “Then you’re gonna have to calm down. How much caffeine have you had today?”

“The right amount,” Alex says, glaring at John for a moment. John just rolls his eyes and turns back to the screen.

They make it another few minutes before Alex grabs John’s arm and leans over.

“Can I talk to you?”

John turns to Alex in surprise, raising his eyebrows at his boyfriend. “I ask you to talk all day and you wanna do it _now_? In the theatre? Where people are trying to _watch the film_?”

“Yes,” Alex says defiantly.

John looks around desperately, trying to make his point sink in, but Alex just keeps staring at him, solid and sure. John sighs.

“Ok, Alex, you’re kind of scaring me. Should we leave for this?”

“No! No. It has to be here.”

“Jesus, man, what’s going on?”

“We had our first date here,” Alex says, like that explains anything at all.

John gapes at him for a second. “What? What’s that got to do with anything?”

“Trust me, it’s important.”

“Besides, we did not have our first date here. Our first date was in the multi-complex across town. And we left after like five minutes because we hated the film.”

Alex opens his mouth to protest, but then snaps it shut. Thinks about it. “No. No, it was here.”

“No. It was across town. We left and went to that tacky all-night diner by the highway and stayed there until like 5am. There are no all-night diners in walking distance of here.”

“I – ” Alex stops. Stares at John. Then, loudly enough to be heard by the _whole damn theatre_ over the noise of the film, says “FUCK!”

“Alexander!” John says, clamping a hand over Alex’s mouth.

“Alright, that’s it,” the man behind them says as his partner covers their young child’s ears. “I’m getting security.”

“Sir, no, I’m sorry,” John pleads, “Jesus fucking christ, Alexander. Don’t worry sir, we’re going, I’m so sorry.” He grabs Alex’s hand and all but hauls Alex out of the theatre and doesn’t stop until they’re safely alone in the half-empty parking lot. He drops Alex’s wrist and rounds on him. “What the fuck was that?! Have you lost your damn _mind_?”

“Fuck fuck fuck,” Alex whines, “I fucked up.”

“Uh, yeah. And nearly got us beat up. Again. Man, you know I always have your back and I’d fight a fucking army for you but in a _family movie? Surrounded by kids? Really_?”

“Not that!” Alex says, and his voice is all high and loud and petulant. “I don’t care about having to leave a fucking theatre. It’s just – ” he trails off, shoulders sinking as he looks back at John, pouting dramatically.

John takes a deep breath and deflates a little. “Alex, what’s with you? You’ve been acting like a crazy person all day and now you’re yelling in theatres and talking nonsense and I just – should I be scared?”

“No, no, babe, not scared,” Alex says in a rush, hurrying forward and taking John’s face in his hands. “Fuck, I’m sorry, I’ve fucked this whole thing up. Jesus. I’m sorry, John.”

“How about you stop apologising and explain before I really start to freak out?”

“I was – I, uh,” Alex takes a deep breath and finally meets John’s eye. “I was going to propose to you.”

John stares at Alex. Then he blinks. Once. Twice. And then he takes a step back and laughs so hard he doubles over.

“Um. Excuse you.” Alex says, hands still hovering in the air where he had been cupping John’s face.

“Oh my god,” John wheezes between laughs, “Holy _shit_.”

“Don’t you fucking _laugh_ at me, asshole!” Alexander whines. “It was gonna be fucking romantic, ok? We were gonna be in the place we had our first date and it was gonna be fucking smooth as shit!”

“We’ve never been here in our damn lives, Alex!” John cackles. “Oh my god, I’m so sorry. Jesus Christ. What a fucking mess.”

“I hate you _so much_ ,” Alex says, crossing his arms across his chest and glaring at John.

John straightens up, biting back his smile. “No you don’t. You wanna _marry_ me.”

“Not any-fucking-more, asshat.”

John grins at him as he advances, pulling Alex in by his hips. “Yes you do.”

Alex keeps glaring. “I’m trying not to want to marry you very, very hard.”

“Fuck, man, you didn’t have to do all this shit.”

“I know that. I wanted to.”

“It was a hot mess.”

“I _know_ , Jesus, shut _up_.”

“And even if it _had_ gone well, I still would’ve said the same thing,” John shrugs.

“Which is?” Alex prompts, finally meeting John’s eyes again. John is kind of surprised to see he looks almost scared of the answer.

“You’re an idiot. Seriously. But you’re my idiot. Honestly, the fact that you think I would say anything but yes is kind of offensive.”

“Wait, really?”

“Seriously? Yes, asshole.”

“Oh,” Alex says, and he beams. “Cool.”

John snorts. “Such an idiot,” he says, and he kisses him hard.

 

 

“Seriously though,” John says, rolling over so he’s facing Alexander properly. Alex smiles at him from the other side of the pillow. “What made you think a big proposal in the place we didn’t have our first date was a good idea?”

Alex rolls his eyes. “I was trying to me _romantic_ , shithead. I thought it would make it more special. We’re never romantic, I thought it would make a nice change.”

“Man, sure, for someone else. When have we ever needed that shit?”

Alex shrugs and looks down at the pillow. “I don’t know. Aren’t couples supposed to be romantic?”

“Alex,” John says, lifting Alex’s chin with his finger so he’ll look at him again. “We don’t need an epic fucking proposal or, like, candle lit dinners to be romantic. So we don’t buy each other fucking flowers or remember all our anniversaries. So what? You do all our fucking taxes because I can’t concentrate long enough to do it and you get up early and make me dinner for breakfast if I’ve had a night shift and I keep you in coffee and make you eat a vegetable once in a while. So what if we don’t make big declarations on a certain day or in a certain place every year? It’s the things you do for me every day that count.”

Alex just looks at him for a moment, smile soft. “Huh,” he says thoughtfully. “I knew there was a reason I wanted to marry you. Kind of forgot it for a little moment when you _laughed in my face_ when I asked you.”

“Wait, hold on a minute,” John says, pushing himself up onto his elbow. “You didn’t ask me!”

“Yes I did,” Alex scoffs. “You said yes.”

“No. Nuh uh! You said you were _going_ to propose and I said I would have said yes, but you didn’t do it! You asshole, you just got engagement sex for nothing!”

“I – shit!” Alex says, jumping off the bed. John laughs as Alex tries to sift through the clothes they had lost to their bedroom floor. “Where is it where is it,” he mutters, before letting out a triumphant “ah hah!”

“What?” John asks, amused, as Alex crawls back onto the bed and sits cross-legged in front of John. John rearranges himself to mirror the position.

“Ok. So the whole thing went to shit because I tried to do something that was so un-us and ruined everything. But I really fucking love you and I think we’re really good together and that you should marry me,” he says all in a rush, and then he thrusts a small black box at John.

John looks down at the box, one eyebrow raised. “That wasn’t a question, Alexander.”

“Oh my god I hate you,” Alex says under his breath, before he opens the box and holds in out for John. “Would you just agree to fucking marry me already before I change my mind?”

John gasps theatrically, presses a hand to his chest. “Oh, but this is such a shock! And so romantic!”

Alex lets out a frustrated laugh and crawls onto John’s lap, throwing his arms over John’s shoulders. “Stop ruining everything, Laurens. Will you marry me?”

“Yes,” John laughs, pressing his grin against Alex’s mouth. “Of course I will, idiot. Any day.”

Alex pulls away and beams at him. “I even got you a ring. How great am I?”

“Pretty damn great, not got lie,” John says, making grabby hands for the box. “Lemme see my bling.”

Alex laughs but he takes the ring out of the box and holds it up for John.

“So shiny,” John says, turning it over in his hand to see it from every angle. It’s a simple band, silver with a darker line around the middle. Inside, a date is engraved.

“It’s, uh. The day we met. Tying in with the whole cheesy romantic thing. Also, the ring is white gold. I know you can’t wear silver and you don’t like how gold looks, so I figured – ”

“It’s perfect,” John says, looking up at Alex. “I love it.”

“Yeah?” Alex asks, scratching the back of his neck. He looks weirdly shy and nervous for a guy who is sitting butt naked on his boyfriend’s lap. 

“Yes,” John says, leaning forward and kissing Alex hard. “You have to put it on me though.”

Alex rolls his eyes, but he takes the ring back. “So demanding. Is this what married life is going to be like?” he asks dramatically, but he slips the ring onto John’s finger with a huge smile.

John gazes down at it for a second. “Feels good,” he says finally. “We should get you one of these.”

“You think?”

“Yeah, man. It feels – I don’t know. It feels really good.”

“Ok,” Alex says, “Let’s get me one.”

“Ok,” John agrees, kissing him again. “Ok.”


End file.
